Soul Survivor
by Jaeger Gipsy Danger
Summary: Commander Palmer notices the Master Chief's behavior after he lands at the Arbiter's camp and decides to keep an eye on him. Let's find out what happened after the credits rolled. Spoiler Alert!
1. Soul Survivor Chapter 1

TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 1, Survivor Instinct

AN: Part of this story contains an event I know couldn't actually happen. You'll know the part I'm talking about when you get to it. When have I ever held strictly to canon? Where's the fun in that? And there's sex.

* * *

"For what shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his soul?" —Jesus

* * *

A group of warriors lifted their weary heads to watch an unmarked Pelican drop on silent wings from the night sky and land at the Arbiter's isolated camp. The ship didn't bother to turn off its engines before the ramp opened. Commander Palmer shook off her fatigue, pulled her shoulder's square and moved away from the fire to great Osiris and Blue Team. The greeting died on her lips when she noticed the subtle signs of exhaustion. No one but another Spartan could see the stiff shoulders as if the armor were the only thing holding them up. My God, she wondered. What had they been through?

With his remaining strength, the leader of Blue Team dutifully led his squad down the ramp because it's what he always does and tonight it's the only thing he can do. The events of the last few days and months stripped him bare of all objectivity. Like a hollowed-out shell devoid of life, he's empty and running on nothing but the instinctive requirement to complete the mission.

Nature does not tolerate a vacuum, and he does not tolerate emotions that might endanger the success of the mission. Buried beneath the layers of his state-of-the-art armor, simmering just below his awareness rushing to fill this void are emotions he will not know how to assimilate. It's there. He knows it, but he just doesn't know what to do about it. He braced himself for it as if it were an enemy on the battlefield and continued.

Someone approached him from the gloom, and his feet obediently stopped moving. It's a female. As if he didn't already know, his HUD faithfully reported the woman's identity. The woman peering up at him so intently is certainly older than he remembered and smaller. Had it been that long since he'd seen Katherine Halsey? No, he corrected himself, they'd always been taught to address her as Doctor Halsey.

As the first wave of anger flickered into his awareness, he noticed her missing left arm. Although he realized he didn't much care how she lost it. He wondered if it caused her any pain when it happened. Pain? She is ignorant of all its manifestations and he is the master of pain. She knows nothing of the life she created for her Spartans. Once, they feared and respected her. As he watched her face, he realized there's nothing he can think of to say. Should he be glad to see her? Should he inquire about her missing arm? Still and silent Master Chief remained silent surrounded by his team. A few steps away, Locke's blue gaze is trained on him as if he's something on display. What is the man waiting for? A warm family reunion? A hug?

Behind the humans, The Arbiter bared his teeth in greeting. In response, the Spartan dipped his head respectfully. _It's been a long time, old friend._ Commander Palmer smiled through her own brand of exhaustion. The scrapes and bruises on her face attested to the fact, and he'd noticed her limp. He noticed everything.

If there were an on/off switch for his brain, he'd flip the switch or push the button. He cannot stop observing, scanning and calculating. He processed the meaning of her smile. If it weren't for his helmet, he might try to smile back. An interesting idea, returning a gesture like a smile. Weary eyes searched the remaining faces. Where is Captain Lasky?

A growing helplessness gnawed at his insides and prevented him from his attention from wandering away from Halsey. Why is she still staring at him? What had she just said? That he'd taken long enough to get here? His hand flexed. What would she think about losing her right arm? If he closed his fist around her neck, the vertebrae would snap, and that insipid, meaningless smile would disappear from her face forever.

The mesa is many meters above the desert floor. What might happen if he pushed Dr. Halsey off the edge? How long would her scream echo through the canyon? Would she scream all the way down? Probably not because her surprise at being attacked by her greatest creation would send her into shock. Old and fragile she might even have a stroke. If he punched the center of her narrow chest would the blow stop her heart? He quickly calculated the odds at one hundred percent and closed his fist.

A wave of sadness diluted the rage and washed it away. Armored hands fell to his side. In its wake stood a vision of Cortana.

 _Cortana!_

He'd found her as if she'd just stepped back into his life. Of course, she'd changed. Had he been that naive to think nothing would? The hours of fighting. The countless waves of enemies and the endless teasing as one illusion after another blocked their way finally provoked his suspicion at her motives.

At the end, when they'd fought the last battle at the end of hours fighting when Blue Team understood she could have stopped the waves of enemies at any time. She appeared out of nowhere as if he'd conjured her up to perform a dramatic gesture at just the moment when they might lose this final attack. It was then he realized his Cortana, his girl, was indeed gone. In her place stood a calculating creature with the harsh features of Doctor Halsey. And the armor she wore now. He didn't understand. It was his armor that kept her safe. He'd always been her protector. The desolate silence in his head teased him with the despair of a failure.

Did Cortana think he wouldn't recognize her altered features? She looked older, just as Halsey did now. Instead of his Cortana he'd seen the megalomania of Doctor Halsey glowing in the once expressive eyes. She'd done this to Cortana. It was this old woman's fault. Had that been her plan all along? To use him to put Cortana into circumstances that would further her plans?

He wasn't a child. It was evident the manner of Cortana's metamorphosis wouldn't allow her to come back to him. But he'd tried by attempting to get her to respond to him one last time. The final straw had been her comment about needing to see if she could still trust him. Trust had never been a question between them before—in the past—in the world where the two of cleaved as one. They gave each other the strength, reasons to keep moving and she kept vigil over him while he slept. The Master Chief shifted his feet.

Fred slipped a hand under his arm.

What? Had he allowed something to show? Some behavior no one would approve or understand? He had to get away from the smiling faces and the concerned looks of his team. Away from Linda's hovering. Away from Thel 'Vadam whose presence only served to remind him of their many failures. No one tried to stop him when he headed off in a random direction without knowing if he were about to walk off the cliff. What did it matter? He'd probably survive the fall. This armor protected him from everything. Everything but the loss of what was left of John, the man inside this armor and the remains of his tattered soul. And if the armor failed? Perhaps it would fail. His steps quickened. Betrayal lodged like a dagger in his heart, emptying him as if he were bleeding out from the wound.

Ten minutes of walking found him on the valley floor. The mesas rose above him now, silent, towering, shadows cast multiple forms and multiplied the darkness. The night felt good, it felt safe, and he pulled off his helmet. A thicket of soft grass beckoned him to sit down. A pond reflected his image. What he saw, shocked him. He punched the reflection of the haggard and no longer a young man with his fist. When the water stilled again, he cupped a mouthful of water. A moment of rest. That's all, just a moment and he will return to the others. With his back against a tree, he let his eyes drift closed.

 _Hello, John. It's her voice. I found her. She's alive. She's walking toward me with a smile of recognition. It's not the same smile I remember. The armor she's wearing. What is its purpose? I never thought of her as naked. Others did, I know because I heard them say it when they thought I couldn't hear. The woman, this new version of Cortana walks toward me stirring a strange and forbidden longing._

 _Touch me again. Please? Don't tease me about it, just come here and if you put your hand on my chest again. Then I'll put my hand over yours, and this time, I won't let you go._ _This time, I will find the words to make you stay. It's not too late. We'll go together._

Her face _changed again. Tough and calculating now. Where is my girl? Come back. Bring her back._

 _Touch me, Cortana._ _Take my hand, Cortana. Stand down. Take my hand, please._

 _Come home._

 _Come home._

The dream woke him abruptly and left him lightheaded and nauseated. The violent movement of his legs dislodged his helmet, and he watched it roll down a small embankment into the water. What did it matter? He caught his head in his hands and pushed the dream away. It didn't work. His usual methods for compartmentalizing deserted him leaving a headache exploding like a supernova behind his eyes.

As if to spite his grief the day brightened around him. Birds flitted through the trees feasting on fruit and occasionally coming down to the water to drink. Sleep hadn't helped. The decision to stay out in the open like this was careless. His head pounded hard enough to affect his vision. Closing his eyes against the shards of sunlight, he rested his head on his forearm. He should go back. He should report for duty and check on his team. He had responsibilities.

The sounds of footsteps raised his head. Blinking, he thought he saw a woman dressed in a simple dress kick off a pair of makeshift sandals. Auburn hair swung free over porcelain cheeks. He remembered noticing she'd been injured, and he wondered how her face had become so scratched and bruised. A towel landed on a nearby rock, along with a small bag. The simple dress soon followed.

He should announce his presence. Get up now, before it's too late. But he can't move now because she's naked. She's naked, and it would be ungentlemanly to embarrass her, so he'll wait. Wait until she's in the water, and then sneak away. Sneak? He's in his armor. Be honest, he asked himself scrubbing his face with his hands, which of them is more embarrassed?

He allowed himself one glance. A quick one. Just one. Has he ever seen a naked woman? It's not as if he didn't know what they looked like. There was Cortana. This was not Cortana with her full breasts and ample curves. Something stirred to life, but he pushed it away. The vision of the lithe form stubbornly remained, and he could not stop cataloging. This was long pale limbs and graceful curves over taut muscles. Hair streaked with fire glimmering in the sunlight. The graceful movements of confidence and agility. Strength to match his strength.

She smiled with delight when the water touched her skin. Buoyancy would take the pressure off her injured foot. The water probably felt refreshing after so many hours in the armor. _Stop analyzing_. Why was he noticing these things now and why does he feel suddenly trapped in his armor as if it no longer fit him properly? He blinked and she disappeared into the crystal blue water with hardly a ripple to show she'd been there at all. He will leave now. He will get up and move away. This is inappropriate on all levels. Pushing himself to his feet, he retraced his steps to the edge of the pool and headed back up the trail.

"Don't forget your helmet, Master Chief."

The voice that called out to him held none of the command tones she typically used stopped him. He heard an absolute acceptance in her voice and before he could argue with himself about all the reasons he shouldn't turn back, he'd already done it and stood at the edge of the pool.

Sunlite droplets of water hung from her hair and shoulders. Master Chief swallowed hard, trying to find a word. Any words. Then she spoke again.

"You discovered my secret oasis. At least, I pretend it's secret and private."

There was no mistaking it now, that was another smile, and she laughed. What happened to Commander Palmer? This sprite tempting him from the water was not the Commander. Women were changeable creatures. He searched his memory for this behavior in Kelly or Linda and found nothing. Therefore, this changeability was dangerous to the mission and not to be trusted. A lesson he recently learned from Cortana.

"Although we are surrounded by Sangheili," she said and laughed again. "Stay here and enjoy the morning. I brought breakfast. You might even enjoy the water."

"I...We must report for duty."

She's just a few meters from him now. He can see those long limbs moving through the water as she uses her arms and legs to hold her position. Like the Circe of the old myths, she beckoned him, tempting him into letting down his guard.

"Not today. We're stuck here for awhile. A few days at least. Captain Lasky managed to get an encoded message through before they jumped to slip space again. We're told to stay put and await orders. Tom is out there playing cat and mouse with Cortana while the brass figures out our next move."

"We should be there."

"I agree, but orders are orders. We'll get our chance. We have a little time, and then I promise we'll be back in the fight. Kelly, Fred, and Linda are in the camp, cleaning their weapons, eating breakfast, keeping busy. Give yourself a minute, at least."

Reluctantly, Master Chief returned to the water's edge to retrieve his helmet. The Pelican that brought them here last night was gone. He cannot escape. He'd never felt this lost, or so empty of purpose. Staring fixedly at his helmet looking for answers until slender callused fingers entered his field of vision and took it from him. He watched it roll to a stop on the grass. The catches on his gauntlets opened and landed next to his helmet. The upper arm guards followed. Then, because he was genuinely too shocked to make a different decision, he helped Palmer catch his chest plate when it fell away. Before he could protest or stop her, his belt and codpiece landed at his feet.

Lungs filled with air for the first time in weeks. Blinking, Master Chief focused on the woman who watched him. He found none of the cold calculation of Halsey or Cortana. The brown velvet of her dark eyes captured his attention, pulling him in as if she dared him to look away.

 _Definitely dangerous._

Another breath, there was no teasing or snide remark in her eyes, only… what? He didn't even know. Couldn't identify.

"It's alright, Master Chief. It will be alright. I promise," she murmured her hands working the skin-tight collar around his neck.

Another breath.

"That's it. Keep breathing."

She uncovered his shoulders freeing his arms and hands. While he closed his eyes and allowed himself to experience the warm, fragrant air skimming over his bared chest. He moved his limbs enjoying the sensation of the breeze tickling the hairs on his forearms.

"What if Hals—"

"Don't even say her name. Not now. Not here." Without realizing it, she'd placed her hands on his chest to stop him from speaking. It worked. His heart leaped under her hand, chest expanding at the accidental contact.

"You knew I was here," he said forcing himself back to awareness.

"Yes, I followed you last night. After I had watched you fall asleep, I headed back to camp. I brought you some things to get cleaned up and some food. But then I didn't see you. That armor of yours camouflaged you there in the shadows…otherwise, I wouldn't have undressed. I come down here every…"

He placed his hands over hers. So this is what it genuinely felt like to touch another person. Skin to skin. It's a revelation, and he's surprised to find it calming. John carefully and deliberately folded his fingers around hers.

"Thank you."


	2. Soul Survivor Chapter 2

TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 2, Beautiful Lie

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Life asked Death, "Why do people love me and hate you?" Death replied, "Because you are a beautiful lie, and I'm a painful Truth."

* * *

To hide her un-Spartan like blush, the Commander stepped back extricated her hands from the gentle grip, and said quickly, "You'll have to sit down to get those boots and leg guards off."

As if this were an ordinary moment in his life he obeyed her. Perfectly normal to sit in a shady spot next to a pond with a naked woman. She laughed when she nearly tumbled over after tugging off his large boot. He helped her with the other one. All that left is to pull the body suit down over his hips. She reached for him, but he stopped her. She understood, in fact, she's surprised he hadn't stopped her before now.

"I tell you what. I'm going to sit over there and give you some privacy. The bag and the towel are over there," Palmer said and moved away.

When her back is to him, he stood and peeled away the skin of the under armor and tossed it aside. How strange to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the breeze caressing the dip and curve of his muscles. The different textures of the cold hard rock beneath his bare feet and the dappled sun on his shoulders. The water beckoned. Does he even know how to swim? _Stop thinking_. As he entered the water it occurred to him he didn't actually know how to swim. He's waist deep when he called out to her.

"If I begin to drown?"

"Don't worry, Master Chief. I'll save you." With that rather cryptic comment, she grabbed the bottle of soap and dove into the water. She came up a few feet away from him and handed it to him.

When she was close enough to him to speak quietly, she asked, "Did you get some sleep?"

He glanced away focusing his attention on the distant rising sun. "I slept, but my dreams were full of…" He deliberately stopped himself from revealing personal information. "Do not concern yourself with me, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" She repeated. "I understand, Master Chief. I wanted to check on you because, last night, you looked as though you'd finally crossed a line."

His eyes flickered to her and back to the horizon. A corner of his mouth twitched. Without speaking, he squirted soap into his hands and washed his torso and face with economic motions. Then he dove deep.

The water coated his skin, holding him in a comforting embrace of weightlessness. Interesting how the water dropped a few degrees as he pushed himself deeper. The sunlight would warm only the first few feet… _stop analyzing_. When Master Chief reached the sandy bottom, he quickly finished washing. The water tried to force him toward the surface until he discovered by moving his hands he could stay in this silent world. The absolute stillness chipped away at his control. Holding his breath was not difficult. When a shudder of emotion ran through him, he tried to hold back the emotion. He failed. Finally, letting it go in a rush of air and watched the bubbles float away dissipating into the blue liquid.

He will not grieve for his lost girl. Not today. Cortana isn't dead. Not this time. On another day he will face her again. Whatever comes of that time will happen, but he will never regret a single moment of their partnership.

The surface came at him slowly each stroke peeling layers away as he rose toward the sunlight surface. Lighter and cleaner with each movement the darkness melted away. He surfaced and wiped the water from his face and noticed the headache was gone. With his feet on a solid shelf of sand, he sat down on a submerged rock. While he figured out how to respond to her question, he decided he liked this swimming activity. But the Commander _is_ waiting for an answer.

Not to her, but to the rising sun, he commented, "I'm undressed and vulnerable without my weapons or armor. I just took a bath out in the open, with a beautiful naked woman on Sanghelios, the home planet of our sworn enemy. I'd say that line has been crossed, Commander."

Although a quick comeback evaded her, the silent stare held the hint of a smile. Spartans never allowed themselves to be startled or surprised. Artificially heightened senses and rigorous training created a soldier able to maintain constant vigilance on tactics and strategy to prepare them for any change on the battlefield.

Excuses could be made for the distraction of the lovely morning, warm sun and lure of the water. Still, it was out of character for Commander Palmer's head to swivel on her shoulders, hair swirling, at the double take in response to the Master Chief's comment. She might forgive herself the lapse if she remembered that this was the first time she'd been skinny-dipping with such a virile and handsome man. Mysterious and famous would be on the list as well, but she'd never admit that.

Twenty years of bivouacking with ODST and Spartans and suddenly she's acting like it matters if she's naked. Although she tried to resist grabbing the dress, it took only seconds for her to slip it back over her head. It's just that no one ever used _that_ word to describe her. She'd been called many things and most of the time the soldier who said it wound up staring at the ceiling. One unfortunate sailor actually called her a Bremerloe, and he woke up in the Infirmary.

"Finished?"

"No, I uh, meant to wash my hair." _Brilliant Palmer, keep talking you're not quite up to babbling idiot._

While Master Chief contemplated Commander Palmer's conduct, never imagining the 6' 7" man staring at her so intently from his spot on a barely submerged rock might affect her behavior. Where a trim waist rose from the water to rippling abs and a breathtakingly gorgeous set of shoulders might have anything to do with her difficulty speaking.

Busy observing his surroundings, the shades of color created by the sun on the sandstone, counting the different colors of blue in the ever changing water and of course, and the flustered looking Spartan standing on the other side of the pool. It was a sharp bark and growl that sounded like something halfway between a grizzly bear and a pissed off Rottweiler which broke his attention. But remember, Spartans are never caught off guard.

The Arbiter dropped from the ledge.

"You humans have odd mating rituals." His huge mouth gaped showing rows of gleaming teeth and continued to laugh or be amused, or whatever that sound he made was called.

The Master Chief stood, and Palmer took a step backward. No weapons. No clothes. No backup. Habits born from years of training die hard for a reason.

The Sangheili stopped and made a slight bow, "Pardon, I thought only to check on you." Then he cocked his massive head at the Master Chief. "Why do you hesitate? I caught the scent of her pheromones up there! Give the female what she wants." The massive began to shake with laughter. The Arbiter leaped up a rock formation and disappeared over the top of the cliff above their heads.

"Losing respect for you, Spartan!"

Palmer moved to the edge of the pond and found her sandals and bag.

"Almost forgot," she said dropping the bag as if it were too hot to touch. "I brought you some clothes."

With her embarrassment prodding her to move she turned to flee, but the Spartan II moved quickly. In a blur of movement he caught her by the shoulders and walked her back toward the water, feeling his way across the bottom of the pool with his feet until they were shoulder deep.

"Master Chief?"

"Embarrassment is unwarranted."

He dipped her back to wet her hair and carding his fingers into the thick auburn strands and scrubbed gently. She hummed a satisfied smile and closed her eyes. Fascinated with the texture of her hair, he continued his actions until he felt her forehead drop against him. Apparently, she was enjoying this. That was just a guess, of course. But it did seem natural, since her neck was now bare to him, to smooth his hand down over the graceful column and press his thumb against each vertebra.

She shivered. Before he continued, Master Chief used his large hands to cup water and rinse the soap out of her hair. When he was done, John wiped the water from her face without requiring her to lift her head. She seemed very comfortable, no sense to disturb her. Hadn't she advised him to relax as well?

Occasionally his shoulders ached. Certainly, it wasn't age, but from wearing the armor. Commander Palmer wore her armor all the time. From her hair to her neck he slid his hands down over her shoulders to message the corresponding muscles that ached in his own shoulders.

His theory proved correct when she turned her face to rest her cheek on his shoulder. This was quite a different sensation than Cortana laying her hand on his chest piece all those weeks ago. While he ran his fingers down the length of her spine, he reminded himself that Cortana seemed a bit jealous whenever he spoke of another female. Perhaps that applied here as well. He pushed all thoughts of Cortana away and bent his head to rest it against Sarah's so she would know he was thinking only about her.

Sculpted lat muscles led him to trapezoids and firm and rounded deltoids. Gently massaging as he went her biceps yielded to his touch. Another sigh brought her a step closer. When he felt her hands, she spread so he could message each joint before continuing his journey. The incredible feel of her arms circling his waist pleased him, and he willed himself to stillness so she wouldn't move away.

When he'd messaged all, he could reach he lowered his hands to rub her buttocks. But something stopped him. His nature taught him to examine evidence, her breathing patterns changed when he grasped her waist, and her chest is pressed against his. A circumstance that shouldn't alter any fact presented so far, but it certainly felt different.

There was nothing in his experience to compare the sensations of her breasts pressed against his chest. Indeed, they were pressed quite flat against him. Apparently, this was not causing her any pain. He considered that if it were causing her discomfort, she would move. She didn't seem to be moving anytime soon. She was as fatigued as he so decided Commander Palmer could rest here as long as she wished.

Her breath against his neck rose goosebumps on his arm and raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Curious. Perhaps he might facilitate the Commander's relaxation by taking a different position. Master Chief embraced her and pushed himself backward, so he floated on his back with her resting on top. It worked.

Now he could watch the birds flying from tree to tree as the sun flickered between the branches. He'd never imagined what this planet might look like, he never cared. Being here and seeing the sandstone sculpted by centuries of water, the temples and buildings carved directly into the rock. The yielding softness of the woman resting so trustingly in his arms.

"Thank you."

Such words from her were unnecessary, and at any rate, he surprised himself by admitting that he enjoyed these sensations so far out of his experience. He quickly pushed her head back down.

"The Arbiter has a sense of humor," he managed. His response had nothing to do with her words of thanks. Just when he was about to say you're welcome, her unexpected laughter sang through his veins. Muscles clenched causing him to increase the pressure of his arms around her. Then her long legs wrapped themselves around his altering the attitude of their bodies and making it difficult for him to keep them on an even keel.

"No thanks are required, Commander. I'm enjoying this moment of relaxation with you."

Her head raised, so she looked him in the eyes, "I think given our current circumstances you could call me by my first name."

"That would be unseemly. You are an officer."

That time her laughter and the subsequent movement against him created an unexpected set of sensations that caught him completely off guard. Master Chief decided they should end this moment of whatever it was. But then again, pushing her away would be rude.

Commander Palmer propped her chin on her hand, "Give it a try."

Before he could come up with a reply, his back bumped against the side of the pool, forcing his hips down to land on a shelf of rock as their weight shifted. Her long legs fell on either side of him. He knew it because he ran his hands down those legs as they drifted down. She was above him now, her breasts floating on the water. Most unprecedented when she cupped his face in her hands because he should be in control. He was always in control.

"Come on," she said, rubbing her thumb across his lower lip. "You'll get a reward."

"I do not require a reward for just saying a name."

She tipped his head back.

"Say it."

Why had voicing a simple two syllable word suddenly become so involved? And the idea of receiving a reward for doing so childish? She was an officer. In fact, in these circumstances, she was his immediate commanding officer.

"Sarah."

"Thank you," she whispered softly against his mouth. Her legs crossed behind his back, while long arms circled his neck.

"Sarah."

He tried to match the pressure of her lips on his and found it a delightful mix of taste, pressure and tingling of the nerve endings. Did all people have individual tastes? The pressure of her mouth on his increased. When he felt her tongue reach out to taste him, he decided to taste her back.

Inexperience caused him to break the kiss. When he saw Sarah's frown, he said her name again. This time, breathless and uncertain he didn't recognize the sound of his voice.

She rewarded him by sucking his tongue into her mouth. Next, he found himself savoring the feel of her hands on his chest when she began to move them over his torso. There were many sensitive spots of which he was completely unaware. Perhaps this was another reward. He decided he liked this too.

Swept up in the sensations he and the woman in his arms created he almost missed her question. Instead, he pulled her head back down so he could continue kissing her. Each sound she made and each time he answered her with his own freed him from the pain that colored so much of his outlook, memories and thoughts. Much like his first experience swimming he felt lighter, freer and more at home in his body than he ever had before.

For so many decades his armor was his skin. Not anymore. Not this morning. He spread his hands across her back. But Sarah pulled away from the kiss.

"Well?"

Hands fell to her waist while he considered her question. What had she said a few minutes ago? In his experience, most things revealed themselves if one was patient. He remained silent, waiting for her to repeat the question and trying to appear as if he were paying close attention and not simply staring at the mesmerizing effect of her floating breasts.

"Do you intend to allow the Arbiter's challenge to go unanswered?"

Everything went very still, as if the birds, the water, and time itself paused to listen for his answer. For a moment. A moment, which passed so quickly if she hadn't been looking right at him she would have missed it, his eyes widened. The hands that gripped her thighs clenched and she expected him to push her away. She ground her teeth together to keep from making one of her usual smart-ass comments.

But the moment went on too long, and she had to say something. "John, I…"

In one powerful movement, John stood, lifting her from the water and set her on her feet. With his back to her, he pulled the clothes from the bag and donned the PT gear, shoving his feet into the sneakers. The sweatshirt he pulled over Sarah's head, helped her find the armholes before tugging it down over her hips. Then he turned his back on her and allowed the changing hues of the Arroyo to hold his gaze.

Sarah Palmer sighed quietly. If the Master Chief felt out of his depth, then so did she. Watching him dress lifted her lips in a half smile she quickly suppressed. Was he dressing out of modesty? She didn't think so. He probably wanted to cover himself and if it couldn't be his armor, then, at least, the PT clothes were something.

Even with clothes on he was a gorgeous man. The sweats hung on his hipbones accentuating his slim hips, narrow waist, and broad chest. They were all handsome. Buck was good-looking and cocky. Locke was certainly attractive, but he just didn't do anything for her. Fire Team Majestic, the same. There was something about this man that reached out to her. He needed more time and that she could give him. She waited.

* * *

en . wikipedia wiki / Master_Chief_(Halo)

Outward appearance: "…His skin is "too white," a consequence of spending most of his time in his armor. The Master Chief stands about seven feet (2.13 m) tall and weighs 1,000 pounds (450 kg) in armor; without it, he stands six feet, seven inches (2 m) tall and weighs 287 pounds (130 kg)."


	3. Soul Survivor Chapter 3

TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 3, Mystery and Madness

* * *

"It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is revealed."―Thomas Moore

* * *

Decades of training and discipline had not prepared him for such a question. He allowed himself a lapse in military bearing this morning, and that was bad enough. His head was full of facts, strategies, and knowledge about the enemy. The intimacies of sex? He didn't know how...Well, he was acquainted with the mechanics of human intercourse. But no, he didn't know how to make love to a woman. What if he hurt her with hands that knew only violence? Cortana was always safe with him because of who and what she was. This was not Cortana. This was a human woman who sought him out. Asked after his wellbeing and that confused and frustrated him. Alone was normal. Alone was easier. Master Chief had neither the words nor the interest in explaining the loss of Cortana to anyone.

An hour of touching and kissing had its appeal. Nudity did not signal intimacy to him. It meant vulnerability and the absence of combat readiness. Thel 'Vadam found the situation humorous. Briefly, John wondered what men who lived in the real world like Buck or Locke would think of this situation and then dismissed it. He wasn't one them and he would never be one of them. That decision had been made for him a long time ago. Last night anger and frustration ruled his actions. This morning, he allowed a beautiful woman to influence his behavior. He was a Spartan, a leader of Spartans and a Master Chief Petty Officer in the UNSC Navy. His responsibility and the basis of his decision making lay in that direction not the gentle touch of a woman's hand on his skin or the question lurking in a pair of dark and unfathomable brown eyes. He was a man of action, decision and—

"Master Chief, will you walk with me?"

The unexpected touch of her hand on his arm ignited a flame of emotion, flooding his senses as his body reacted to the memory of the taste and the feel of her skin against his. His heart filled, expanding his chest making it difficult to breathe. He forced out a breath over the adrenaline coursing through him like a heat source. The origin and reason for the heat he didn't yet understand. Just as he didn't know, the answer stood gazing up at him with her hand resting on his forearm.

"It's only a walk."

She pressed her fingers into his skin; he took a step. She touched her head to his shoulder, and he took another step then stopped.

"I'm not like other men."

"Funny, you look just like one, and I did see all of you. I'm pretty sure my conclusion is accurate."

He stared at her. Then changed tactics, while he tried to decide which was more shocking, that no one had ever said these things to him, or that it was her saying them.

"You think the Spartan IVs are a bunch of undisciplined ruffians," she said, allowing her hand to drop away and stepping in front of him.

He shook his head. _Dangerous._

"Do you think this is just some game of seduction I'm playing with you? Something like Hoya or DeMarco might try? And you know what? There's nothing wrong with a bit of humor. It's okay to loosen up and maybe, just maybe, crack a smile once in a while."

"You mock me."

Anger flared, and she kicked a rock, the both watched it land about seventy-five yards away. Glancing at her sharply, he gestured to her foot.

"To hell with my foot," she allowed her voice to rise along with her frustration. "To hell with this planet that's fooled me into thinking I have some freedom and to hell with you for reminding me it's an illusion. Do you think I don't understand? That I can't possibly know what it's like to grieve or feel so isolated you no longer remember your way out of the darkness? That I don't realize you've lost her twice. Or the next time you'll have to kill her?" She'd gone too far. "John, I'm sorry."

The stared at each other in silence, neither sure how to take the next step or what that step might be. Palmer broke eye contact first and marched away. Then stopped, "No one ever told me I was beautiful. Thanks for that. I'll leave you with your gloomy thoughts, Master Chief. And maybe someday, if you'll have that conversation with me I'll tell you just how much it means to me that _you_ think so."

With his voice low, Master Chief glared at her daring her to look away. He needed answers. Now. "Tell me now. Tell me why it means so much to you and how sex will change anything."

"Because, just as you found when we floated together in the pool it's the person you're with that makes the difference. You seemed to enjoy the contact, or were you thinking of Kelly or Linda? Never mind, I'm making assumptions. But if it is Kelly or Linda, then, hey, I get it."

With a growl of frustration, he took her by the hand and pulled her into a nearby grotto behind a waterfall. The world of Sangheilos disappeared as they faced each other.

A woman of action does not stand around waiting. A soldier observed a scenario play out and used that information to plan their next move. Standing too long in one place will get you killed. It was a little of that and a woman's instinct that drove her to curve her hand over the firm line of his jaw. Beard stubble tickled her palm. Sarah caressed his lips with the pad of her thumb. He pulled back. She didn't let go. Time hung between them. She reminded herself sternly that this moment could not be rushed. And that was an order her brain could follow. The rest of her was acutely aware of the cotton t-shirt shifting over tense muscles. The flex of his biceps as he gripped her shoulders. The hunger reflected back to her that she knew was in her eyes too. She wanted to bury her nose against his neck and savor every inch of him. Commander Palmer deliberately laid aside her rank and position and turned a woman's heart to the fathomless indigo staring at her so intently.

"Why?" He asked.

"You're handsome, strong and mysterious, and I wanted you the moment I saw you on Requiem." She laughed against his chest, nuzzling the soft cotton of the t-shirt. "When you faced down Del Rio, to protect the thing most important to you in this world, my heart released some damn un-Spartan feelings for you." She slid her hands under his shirt, pulled it over his head, and turned her lips against his chest. With her eyes on his, she pulled back.

"John," she said and smoothed his furrowed brow with her fingertips. "The Skipper and I watched the vid of you and Cortana. We kept it aside at the senior leader's debriefing. No one but Lasky and I saw it and no else ever will. Such a private and tragic moment." She decided to take a chance. "This is what her action toward you genuinely feels like." She backed up and placed her palm against the spot where Cortana had put hers.

Master Chief caught himself before he staggered back a step. This was it. The source of the heat. Cortana's touch, born of need, sadness, and parting led him to grief. How had he not noticed this before, when Sarah had done this very thing not two hours ago? The heat of a Spartan? The spread of her long fingers over his pectoral muscle ignited something deep and familiar. It shook him hard, and before he could pause to analyze the situation and its possible outcomes he reached for her to recapture her strength. The heat and the taste of her is what he needs.

Sarah watched that set of emotions play out on his face.

"If that moment hadn't been about goodbye and death. If she'd been a real woman and you hadn't been in your armor. What would you have done when she touched you the way I am now?"

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I wanted to prove to her that I wasn't a machine. Touch her, finally. Prove I was worthy of her. I couldn't. I failed. What she's become…I am at fault."

That was it. No more questions, no more games, no more hesitation. Palmer pulled the dress and sweatshirt over her head tossed it aside and stepped back into his arms. She wasn't letting go of him this time. The Spartan in her flared to life, and although she wanted to push him against the wall and wrap herself around the persistent weight pressed against her stomach she let him set the pace. Sarah also resisted the urge to move her hand between them because she was pretty sure he hadn't even noticed his own arousal.

"I won't allow you talk about yourself that way, she said and kissed the side of his mouth. "You have nothing to prove."

Master Chief's hands released their grip and moved over Sarah's skin. Breathing each other's breath, their mouth's close enough to touch, Master Chief's gaze followed his hands as they began a journey. The skin on her neck and shoulders was warm. He spread his fingers to touch as much of her torso as possible. This area was much cooler and the nipples even more chill. He wondered why and touched one of them with his thumb just as she had touched his lips. A sharp gasp brought his head up.

This time, he initiated the kiss. It began slowly at first as John crossed the line he'd never crossed in his life. Tentative as the look in his eyes and the hands on her waist. When his chest expanded against hers, Sarah pulled back to answer his question in his touch. He followed her lips seeking the contact. She stopped him by placing her forehead against his.

"I know nothing."

"Shhh," she murmured and allowed primal need to take over. Spartan-strong hands moved clothing away. Enormous hands spread fingers over her bottom and pushed their hips together. Sticky, hot, and insistent the evidence of his desire heated the skin over her stomach. He'd waited long enough.

She slid her hands under his shirt. When she pulled it over his head and turned her lips against his chest, he shivered.

"You _are_ Circe."

That laugh again, "Circe is it? And you are my Ulysses?"

Something broke free and instead of resisting, he gave into the strange need to possess and claim.

"Willingly."

Tears stung her eyes at his admission of trust. She'd hoped he would learn to trust her, but the force of his yielding to her hit hard. To hide the unexpected display of emotion Sarah returned her attention to his chest, placing kisses over the hard round edges of his pectoral muscles. Her kisses sent his blood roaring in his ears. The touch of her mouth a revelation of sensations. She moved lower scraping her teeth over his stomach.

Transfixed by her actions he carded his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back. "You are beautiful, Sarah. It is not wrong for me to tell you so."

Should he join her on the ground? Apparently not because she held him with one arm around his hips and her hand is moving, and her mouth is moving. No one had ever touched him like this. Even he never had...His penis served one purpose, and that was biological. Locked inside his armor, he never gave his actual physical body much thought. If he were injured, he fixed it. If he lost strength or focus, he always managed to find another way around the advisory. The kissing stopped, and when he saw her mouth open and understood what she was about to do, his body arched against her.

Her name exploded from his lips, "Sarah!"

This time, his reward was the feel of his penis hardening inside her mouth as she took him deep. The scratch of her fingers over the cheeks of his ass urged him to move. He had to move. Somehow. The desperate need overwhelmed him, but he couldn't because…well because she held something else of his in her hand and he didn't dare. Caught between her foraging mouth and the strength of her hands decades of sublimation caught up with him. The clever mouth set him on fire, drawing the flames and everything in him to the intensity of this moment. This was too much, yet not nearly enough. The level of intimacy genuinely stunned him. The loss of control brought his reticence nature back in full force.

"Stop," he said, and she did. His hips jerked when she suddenly, but obediently released him to the fresh air of the grotto. With a last slow lick of her tongue up the pulsing vein, she took his hands and tugged him down.

When he lay beside her, she took his hand and placed it between her legs. What he found there was hot and wet; very similar to what he felt when her mouth was on him.

"John, this is what you do to me."

He could only look up at her in wonder.

"You will teach me," came out in a hoarse whisper he didn't recognize as his own voice.

Her beauty flushed with need, she pushed two of his fingers inside her body. When his thumb circled the small nub of flesh he watched her gasp. How wild and free she seemed to him. The opposite of their narrow lives as Spartans. Each stroke of his thumb appeared to increase her need for this touch. His analytical mind cataloged her movements, the scent of her body as it heated beneath his hand. The breathless tone of her voice when she said his name. There was so much more of her to explore. Intent on exploring John withdrew his hand.

 _"Don't stop. I'll fucking kill you if you stop."_

Fair enough.

John reflected that knew a lot about many things. Soldier things and the life of a lone warrior. In fact, Halsey and Mendez made sure all the Spartan IIs received a well-rounded education. Not that he had anyone to discuss it with.

He noted how her muscles quivered when he trailed his fingertips over her thighs.

He'd tried once with Cortana. Her abrupt dismissal of Shakespeare as nothing but a hack and e.e. cummings as just another avant-garde bohemian prevented him from continuing the conversation. It's just that he always thought this poem suited the two of them. He always meant to discuss it with Cortana. To point out the similarities between their relationship and Cumming's poem.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in  
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere  
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done  
by only me is your doing,my darling)  
i fear

This was not the words of an archaic poem or the flickering image of an A.I. or an enemy poised to strike. Stretching out, John wrapped himself in her long supple legs. When Sarah arched her hips toward him, he slid his hands under her the cheeks of her bottom. A logical application of skills learned will allow him to reciprocate. He touched his lips to the place where his fingers had been she made a sound that was both unladylike and definitely un-Spartan. Perhaps he heard the sound once, years ago, from a dying Marine? John pushed the thought away and applied himself to the woman so pliant and breathless in his arms. Sweet and hot like a treat that must be consumed quickly he lost himself in the taste of her. Each touch of his tongue sent her writhing and pleading with him not to stop. She needed him. Required his attention and dedication to this purpose and he would not fail her.

Under his ministrations, Sarah's body tightened until every muscle in her body constricted. Her hand materialized behind his head, and she began to push against his mouth. She's lost control, he realized. Knowingly lost control. He marveled at her ability to trust in someone else for this intimate act.

Her body changed again. Really, he had no idea a woman's body could or would react this way. Sarah's toes curled against his hips, while her hands convulsed over his shoulders. His name drifted from her lips as she into surrendered to him and quivered through her orgasm.

Until long legs gathered him up and pulled him close. John obligingly shifted until he lay on top of her. Before he braced his weight on his forearms, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He fully intended to kiss her again, and it seemed the polite thing to do.

Had he ever seen such depths in anyone's eyes as he saw in hers?

She smiled that smile again, tilted and John felt himself falling. This time, he didn't hesitate. John fell softly, with gentle reverence, into her body, her eyes, and through their movement, began to come back to himself.

They rocked together, and he began to understand the reality of the strength of her demanding hands as they gripped him. She was warmth and beauty, and she was real.

* * *

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart) I am never without it (anywhere

I go you go, my dear: and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear

~o~

fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

~o~

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

~o~

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e. e. cummings, _I carry your heart with me(I carry it in)_


	4. Soul Survivor Chapter 4

TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 4, How to Handle a Woman?

* * *

"How to handle a woman?

There's a way," said the wise old man,

"A way known by ev'ry woman

Since the whole rigmarole began."

"Do I flatter her?" I begged him answer.

"Do I threaten or cajole or plead?

Do I brood or play the gay romancer?"

Said he, smiling: "No indeed.

How to handle a woman?

Mark me well, I will tell you, sir:

The way to handle a woman

Is to love her...simply love her...

Merely love her…love her…love her."

Arthur, _Camelot,_ Lerner and Lowe

* * *

The Arbiter's camp simmered while the other Spartans tried and failed to be patient. Waiting is not in their skill set and after what they'd experienced in the last twenty-four hours they needed to move. It would never occur to them to talk it out. They needed action. Kelly and Linda sat quietly together, never imagining Holly and Olympia might have something to share, something in common, with which to begin a conversation. Frederick paced, holding their 'ground' until their team leader returned. It's what he knows how to do.

Spartan Locke had given up an hour ago trying to engage the Arbiter in conversation. Locke wanted to talk to him, ask questions, hear stories. Thel 'Vadam merely snarled at his efforts.

The sound of a rock echoing off the canyon walls died away. Spartan Buck frowned in frustration and reached for another stone from a pile of rocks next to him.

"It's not like skipping stones, Gunny." Locke said hoping Buck would get the hint.

"It could be."

"Give it a rest, Spartan," Locke said with a little command voice in his tone.

"I've been resting, sir. Cleaned my armor, my weapon, bathed, shaved and eaten. You bring any alcohol, LC?" Buck spread his arms wide. "After all, sir. It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

"Do you wish me to find something for you to do?" Locke commented scrapping the last of the whiskers off his cheek and arching an eyebrow toward the Spartan.

"No sir." Buck turned to The Arbiter, who was finishing the last of his meal. "Come on, even here there must be a Happy Hour, right?"

"No Happy Hour for you, Spartan. Your insubordination would earn you a quick death, or not so quick, as your commander chose." The Sangheili shrugged and went back to picking the last of the meat from the bones of his breakfast.

Buck wasn't to be silenced. "Isn't anyone worried about the Master Chief and Commander Palmer?"

Thel 'Vadam swiveled his massive head toward Commander Locke. "Mister Locke, I believe your soldier is also jealous that Master Chief—how do you say it in your language—got the girl?

"Hey! I got plenty of girls, Arbiter! Uh, sir." Buck reacted quickly. Too, quickly and that earned him a laugh from the entire group.

Holly Tanaka laid her weapon aside, "Well, you were never good on a dare."

Olympia rocked back on her heels with laughter, "Yeah, take a dare, Buck!"

The Arbiter cocked his head, then joined in with the laughter. "Ah, you refer to the ONI female Veronica Dare. A worthy opponent, that one. And is that what you call a pun? I doubt you'd get that girl either, Spartan _Gunny_."

According to all the romance novels sleeping with your head on resting on your lover's chest was supposed to be romantic and comfortable. Although certainly a novel experience, trying to find a suitable position on a 60+ inch chest, wasn't romantic and it wasn't comfortable.

He must have sensed her movement when he rolled over on his side and pillowed her head on his bicep. Not much better, but the benefits of him pulling her close with his arm around her and spooning up behind her were well worth a little discomfort.

Four hours—yes she'd counted—of making love left her sleepy and deliciously sore. The man responsible held her in a gentle, proprietary embrace. Unsure, at first she noticed the moment in his eyes when he allowed himself to trust her enough to follow her lead. Turned out he was insatiable and endlessly curious. With a full heart, she turned in his embrace to kiss him again.

"More?"

She chuckled because she couldn't tell if that were an interested yes or hopeful no. Kissing she still had the strength for, so she did. John responded by pulling her on top of his long body where she settled. This wasn't very comfortable either, but there was nowhere else she wanted to be, maybe ever wanted to be. And maybe she wanted to tell him that. But how? _I'm in love with you, John? How many children do you want and where shall we set up our family home?_

She scrubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She'd lose her mind pretty quickly with that kind of thinking. Nothing about this was normal. She wasn't. He wasn't. They were laying on the ground, completely naked, out in the open on Sanghelios for fuck sake.

"Stop thinking so hard." The Master Chief said sitting up and pulling her between is legs. Sarah rested her head on his shoulder.

"My sense of duty is creeping back, and it won't go away."

"Do you want to go back to camp?"

"No. Dammit, I don't."

"You think this time may never come again. Say what is in your heart, Sarah."

She sighed and placed a kiss on the broad shoulder under her cheek. The words I love you rolled around on her tongue. The last few hours hadn't been just a quickie or the ODST tradition of post-mission sex. How they would laugh at her, curled up in arms, of all people, John-117. No. It wasn't just the startling softness of her heart or the teeth marks on her left breast or the dark purple bruise blooming on her thigh. Or that he whispered, I am so close to you beautiful Sarah, against her neck after he came down from the high of his orgasm. This was about trusting someone enough to share the intimacy of vulnerability.

"Wait! I know!" She removed his dog tags and slipped the second tag from her chain and swapped it for one of his. Placing the chain formally around his neck, she kissed his cheek. "There! Now we're going steady. How's that for corny?"

"It's not corny if it's what you wish, and it is what I wish."

"John," came out in a long breath. Oh, _hell no_. She was about to cry.

~o0o~

"Hey, there's his armor. Let's steal it!"

"Buck, the day you finally grow up, I'll eat my helmet."

Buck and Olympia, under Locke's orders, followed the Spartan's trail to the pond.

"It's beautiful here," Olympia breathed.

"Let's go back. If Master Chief is out of his armor, then…"

"You're right we should leave before we interrupt anything. Lucky girl."

"What about me?" Buck raised his hand's palm up. "Come on admit it. The shifting colors of the water and sandstone set off my ruggedly handsome features."

Olympia shook her head. "Actually, it's a little of that, but mostly the way your neck piece sets off your square jaw. It's your blue eyes, and all that jet black hair if you want to know the truth. Now shut up about it and let's get this armor back to camp."

Buck grabbed the helmet and recorded a message for the Master Chief that his armor was safe back at camp. After sorting the armor into something they could reasonably carry, Buck laid his hand on Olympia's arm. She stopped staring down at Buck's hand and raised her eyebrows.

"Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it. Let's go."

"So maybe later we could come back down here, and you can tell me more about how good looking I am. Compare scars?"

"Buck!"

"Just a thought." He followed her up the trail enjoying the movement of her hips under that armor swaying as she walked. It's not like he wouldn't tell her how hot he thought she was or that he would ever tell. He was not a kiss and tell kind of guy.

 _Lucky guy, that Master Chief._

~o0o~

The sun moved to its zenith, ticking away their last moments. They kept their hands on each other, fingertips exploring as if they intended to memorize every curve and hard plane. They knew it was time, and there was work to be done. When _Infinity_ made it back to pick them up, they'd have to be ready. Then, at least for awhile they'd be together on the ship.

John pulled the sweatshirt back over her head, then slowly dressed. "We should go," he murmured and held out his hand.

"I know I have to put my Commander Palmer face back on, but I feel so changed." She took the offered hand and held it to her cheek. "John, I'll never forget this time."

John stepped back toward her and pulled her into his arms. Against his neck, she whispered her voice warm and full. "Everything will change once we get back to camp. I just want you to know one thing. Just this one…Never forget, no matter how alone feel or how far away, there's someone who loves you."

The Spartan took a deep breath, "What you shared with me can never be taken away or forgotten. Never knew this was possible or understood. Come."

Of course, everyone looked up when the two Spartans stepped under the awning of the Arbiter's camp. Thel 'Vadam broke the moment by speaking first and preventing comments. "Ah, you are here. Gather your things. The way is safe now for us to enter the central citadel where we can be more comfortable. With a bit of your human luck, Captain Lasky will contact us soon."

John waited until everyone headed back down the hill before following. Footsteps behind him. He whirled defensively. There shouldn't be anyone behind him and certainly not anyone who could sneak up on him.

A small hand thrust a finger at his face.

"Where the hell have you been, young man?" Doctor Halsey shouted. "Do you think you can just stay out all night without letting anyone know where you were? Answer me!"

* * *

Bremerloe – A female of husky build. The term originated at Bremerton, Washington Navy Base where they are rather common.


	5. Soul Survivor Chapter 5

TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 5, Price

* * *

"If I had but an hour of love if that be all that is given me, an hour of love upon this earth, I would give my love to thee." ―Alice Sebold, _The Lovely Bones_

* * *

 **Master Chief POV**

"There you are, Master Chief. You missed the staff meeting."

4940469906.632 cubic meters of _the_ ship and she managed to locate me. I don't have to look up to know the identity of the person approaching. She doesn't have to talk because her presence is evident by her unique scent and the pattern of her footsteps. I faced Commander Palmer from my shadowed spot by the view screen to see her smiling. The fact that smile is for me is still new. The intimacy we shared on Sanghelios a memory that crowds thoughts of duty and shines in my memories like no other.

Perhaps, once when I located Cortana…The horror of the Grave Mind. She needed me then. Grief caught me unaware. Her voice spoke to me still. Is it my mind reaching for her presence? _…We exist together now, two corpses in one grave._ I reassure myself that she's not dead. Yet I've lost her as surely as when she left me on Requiem. Forcing those thoughts away I turned to face the woman striding toward me.

I wasn't exactly hiding _._ Dressed in simple fatigues, she's a welcome light into my gloomy thoughts. With her hair in a girlish ponytail, she looked young and unguarded. I checked myself. She may be the only Spartan IV, who managed to move gracefully in her armor, but she's also a capable soldier. Deadly, in fact. The tone of her voice is not a reprimand or indicative of an officer to an enlisted sailor. But we are both in uniform, so I wait for her to speak. Five days since our intimate encounter. Five days since we left Sanghelios. Five days of endless debriefings and reports. Five days since Cortana's betrayal and five sleepless nights. I pushed thoughts of revenge and self-blame aside and opened my arms to her. She hesitated. Our eyes met, and she cocked her head.

The last time I held Sarah Paler in my arms was on Sanghelios in a grotto hidden from the world by a waterfall. Now that I've had a chance to process the events our mission, Cortana's betrayal may have been inevitable. That this woman came to me, chose me was not. Alone in the grotto by the hidden pond, the pressure of her arms around my waist and fingers spread across my back had felt so new. The feel of her breath on my neck was almost magical the way it stirred the small hairs. Magical? I have changed, haven't I?

The sensations created by her body against mine ran along my muscles and nerves like the fire from a plasma weapon. I remembered how it intensified when I used my hands to mold her against me. How with a firm touch and softly intoned words she demanded that I actively participate in our sexual encounter. Even the memories bring thoughts of satisfaction and stir my body.

She's watching me. What does she see? A man no who's no longer young staring at her with what must be a puzzled look. She does not wish to share affection with me now? I understand. Before I turn away, she surprised me by ducking under my arm and embraced me. Then she leaned back in my arms and read my mind. Can all women do this?

"Where's that grotto when you need it?"

"It's not far," I admitted and pressed my cheek to hers.

Her answer is to press her lips to mine. She tastes different this morning, with a heady mixture of mint and coffee mixed with the scent of her shower-fresh hair and skin. For a long moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the touch of her lips on mine.

The questions that boiled in my mind for five days would not stay silent and kept me from focusing. I needed to discuss this with Cort...Commander Palmer. With her face framed in my hands, I pushed her away. I had to ask someone.

"Sarah, tell me. Was I a fool to follow Cortana?"

Her eyes flashed. Was that anger? Kissing one woman while thinking of another...probably not a wise tactical choice.

"A fool? John, is that what you think? No, and don't be so hard on yourself. It's easy to forget out here in space, so far from genuine..." she stopped, "…make that regular human contact. The Spartan training, if we let it, hollows us out, and turns us into mindless soldiers."

"That is a harsh assessment."

"You should know that better than anyone. It's the truth. We lock ourselves behind the armor and the training. We forget how to be human."

"Human? Humanity is always a mission priority." I couldn't make light of this or pretend it hadn't happened. I put my team in danger to pursue an enigma. Placed even more people at risk by putting my personal issues first. She frowned when I removed her arms.

With the distraction of her affection gone, I said what I needed to say. What must be said.

"Commander Palmer, I wish to remove myself from active duty. My decisions were biased and endangered my team." There, I'd said it aloud. Admitted the thing gnawing at my insides since Cortana's betrayal. She will see my weakness now, and I will understand. Instead of moving away, she moved closer and forced me to look at her.

"Master Chief, no one denied your right to retrieve Cortana. Blue team would have gone AWOL to help you find her. _I_ would have gone AWOL to help you find her. You were unbeatable together." Her hand smoothed my cheek. I barely avoided leaning into the touch. "Hey, one of the great things about being in charge of the Spartans is I get to read all of the mission reports. Did you believe she became flesh and blood?"

"No, my sensors registered nothing but energy. She had changed. She looked older—more like Halsey. Exactly like Halsey. The gentle intelligence and warmth of…of my, Cortana had been wiped away by megalomania of Dr. Halsey. I thought I could reach her, but she was gone. It was all a trick to test me and lure us into her web."

The anger started to build in me, and I have no focus for it. Sarah is persistent and tried to embrace me again.

"I know this doesn't make sense now, but in time, you'll remember the good things. The things you loved about her. The things about your partnership and her that you treasured."

"Love?"

"Give me your hand Master Chief."

I wanted to give in and touch her again.

"Come on, there's no one around."

And I wanted to trust her as I once trusted Cortana. What I wanted? When have my wants ever been a consideration? As I watched this woman reach for my hand, I speculated at her intentions. She's beautiful and brilliant. Today I feel as if I'm nothing more than a ghost. An apparition left to walk the empty battlefields. A solitary creature standing on a pile of dead bodies with blood rising over my boots...the stench...I fear it…I feel their pain...the millions, billions of dead...They rage against the waste of their lives.

I can no longer defend against it.

Their voices rose, hammering around inside my head. _Why didn't you save me, Master Chief? Why didn't you save my platoon? We waited for you. We trusted you to rescue us._ Me _and my buddies waited for you, until… we couldn't wait anymore. They overran us, Chief. I watched them slice my buddies into bloody ribbons. Why, Master Chief? Why?_

The guilt washed over me, and I found no defense against it. The bulkhead gave when I fell against it. I am stripped bare. Bent double as decades of agony and violence rose inside me burning from the inside, I'm dimly aware of cools hands touching me and Sarah's frown. Not in judgment, a part of me knows that. It's her stubborn resolve that kept her here. It is not in her nature to abandon her troops. I know that, and I understand, but I cannot allow to anyone to see this weakness. Not even her. The old training rose to the surface and took over. My emotions ebbed away. Don't laugh, don't feel, don't think, follow the Spartan in front of you. Move. Fight. Live.

A shaky hand reached for me and applied gentle fingertips to the front of my shirt. The action angered me. Sarah, you are everything that is the opposite of timid. Why now? A memory flashed, and another palm flattened against my armor. How long will this moment haunt me?

 _...I waited so long to do that...I'm not coming with you this time...Most of me is down there...I needed to know if I could still trust you...Goodbye, John."_

"Leave me!"

Her jaw hardened as a woman's concern turned to a Naval officer's reserve. Good. The barriers are back in place. Good. Now she will leave. Instead, I heard the confident tone of command, the sound of an officer accustomed to giving orders.

"Master Chief. The gym. One hour. It's not a request."

She's gone. I listened to her footsteps until even I can't hear them. Come back, Sarah. She took the air and the light with her. I returned to my silent vigil.

~o0o~

The gym was empty. I wondered if that is her doing. The treadmill seemed like a good start, so I took my place on the machine and began the program. Thirty minutes later Commander Palmer entered dressed in workout clothes, and two pairs of boxing gloves slung over her shoulder.

She tossed a pair of gloves to me and kept walking. When I joined her in the ring, she shoved in a mouth guard and a protective mask and rose on the balls of her feet.

"I will not fight you, Sarah."

That was the wrong thing to say. What I know about a woman's mind couldn't fill my helmet, but something tells me she won't let up until we reach an outcome only she knows. Why doesn't she just tell me? She spun and kicked me hard enough with her right foot to knock me back a pace.

"Commander Palmer. I. Will. Not. Fight. You."

This time, I caught the left foot she aimed at my head. She's very fast. Impressive.

"Commander Palmer, there are excellent reasons why I don't spare. Tell me, is the phrase, talk about what's bothering you, applicable?"

Clearly, she can't talk around the mouth guard, but it's possible she growled just before she aimed her head at my solar plexus. After completing the move, she regained her feet and kicked the gloves off the mat in my direction. Perhaps I should have reacted differently? She seemed angrier now.

I donned the gloves thinking about how hard I hit that light bridge after the Ur-Didact released me. That had been painful. Sarah, have you ever hung by your fingers dangling over space with broken ribs and dislocated shoulder? I doubted it.

She never saw my right hook coming. The blow dropped her gracefully to her knees. I knew better than to offer to help her up. See? I am learning.

Sarah launched herself from the floor at me. I let her knock me down, and I turned so that I hit the mat first. I allowed her to straddle my hips while she grinned at me triumphantly. Sweat darkened her hair dark with streaks of red reflecting off the lights. The t-shirt she wore molded over her curves, and I watched her chest heaving with exertion.

Where is that grotto when you need it?

Before long, voices let me know we acquired an audience. I directed my attention back to Commander Palmer, and I leaped to my feet. The momentum tossed Sarah across the mat, and she landed hard. Cheered on by our audience, Sarah pushed herself up. Will she charge again or take the time to study my body language. I do not wish to embarrass her in front of subordinates. Doesn't she remember the morning she witnessed me drop DeMarco to the mat in just one move? While DeMarch lay there gasping for breath, Thorne and Hoya rushed me. They quickly joined DeMarco on the mat. All three of them on their hands and knees. I cannot help what I am.

Perhaps I can change how I react to this new world? This world where I can longer pretend Cortana is was the only thing I needed to survive. While I considered the probable outcomes of Sarah's next move, I remembered a time when Fred, Linda, Kelly and I squared off in a ring. After two hours of grappling, Fred finally pinned me. Until Kelly charged in and threw her shoulder against him. Their momentum carried him to the other side of the mat. When he tried to retaliate, Linda dove in to defend Kelly.

Three hours later all four of us lay in a sweating pile each using the other's weight and strength to hold the other down. We probably had another three hours left in us, but Halsey caught us and put a stop to the fight. Later, I overheard Chief Mendez and Dr. Halsey discussing the incident. Chief laughed off her concern and called it a team building moment?

Across the ring, Commander Palmer gathered herself. Fierce, beautiful and deadly.

 _'Come then, warrior. Have your resolution.'_

Something inside me began to expand. Call it my heart, if it suits you. I couldn't stop it any more than I could stop Sarah's angry assault. I'd experienced glimpses of this feeling with Cortana. Occasionally with Kelly and Linda. It's all very simple, isn't it? Can I put the violence behind me? I desire her and all she represents. I need only to prepare myself. It is that simple.

I braced my feet. This will not be easy because I am new to this, but I want to learn.

If I open my arms, how will she answer? The force of her nature staggers me. Me, the man named John, an unconquerable Spartan II, knew in the expanding warmth of my mind and heart that in her embrace, exist wisdom, companionship, and passion.

There is a place, I don't understand it yet, but I know there is a place for her beside me. Just as I know healing when she rests against the once impenetrable planes of my soldier's frame, against the scars and the wounds that never heal. The way she rests her head on my shoulder to the fingers gripping the back of my shirt, to the long legs wrapped so brazenly around my waist and the liquid warmth of her eyes when she challenged me to accept what I saw there.

Her frustration comes at me in waves. I'll plant my feet and ready myself.

Hurry, Sarah.


End file.
